


More Than Willing

by lostwithoutmyanchor (mysourwolf)



Series: Willingly Wicked [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Double Penetration, M/M, Other, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Kink, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 20:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11540259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysourwolf/pseuds/lostwithoutmyanchor
Summary: Stiles and Peter go back to the preserve to check on the Nemeton and it seems the tree has taken a liking to them.





	More Than Willing

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta-read

“Holy shit, look at that!” Stiles gasped, his arms flailing around.

“Oh, I’m looking,” came the dry reply from Peter.

They were standing in the middle of the preserve, right in front of the Nemeton, doing a routine-check. But it wasn’t just the stump anymore. Now it was surrounded by countless new roots and branches. They were all thin and green or a light brown and reached as tall as a person already.

“Did we do that?” Stiles asked reverently. “Or, I mean, did you do that? You know, with your contribution.”

“Yes, thank you. I know exactly what you mean.” Rolling his eyes, Peter pulled Stiles close. “You did help, you know?” he said, making Stiles blush. But instead of a witty reply, Stiles just cupped Peter’s face and kissed him deeply.

Ever since the ritual with the Nemeton, they just couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. The whole pack, including the sheriff, was already sick of it. But ever since they crossed the line into the physical, they constantly felt a sort of overwhelming need for each other.

Though they had managed to go on a few, very enjoyable dates, they usually ended prematurely and, more often than not, included very public makeout sessions until they managed to get to Peter’s place.

Pondering those thoughts, Stiles suddenly snapped his eyes open and pulled back.

“Oh, my god. I think the Nemeton is the reason why we can’t keep it in our pants.”

“What?” Peter asked, sounding put out. “Not my immense hotness?”

“Aww, of course that, too, baby,” Stiles said, only half-mocking Peter.

“I hope so,” Peter grumbly replied, as he latched onto Stiles’ neck.

But Stiles was too distracted by his epiphany. “I’m thinking it’s been using the engery we created by fucking to grow.”

Peter pulled back and looked at him skeptically. “Wouldn’t we have noticed that?”

“I mean,” Stiles began, thinking hard, “we are usually pretty tired after just one round.”

Now Peter stepped back, crossing his arms. “I haven’t heard you complaining,” he said flatly.

Stiles laughed and bumped Peter’s shoulder. “I’m not complaining. The sex is spectacular and you know it. But I do think somehow the Nemeton is siphoning off the energy we create. It must still be connected to you after the ritual. And to me anyway, by my spark.”

With a sigh, Peter asked, “So what? Is this how it will always be now?”

Making thoughtful noises, Stiles stepped closer to the tree and gently ran his fingers over the new branches. They immediately parted like a curtain, revealing a tent like entrance. On the bottom, Stiles could still see the stump but it was covered with lush green moss.

“Woah,” he said, grinning at Peter. “This is so cool.”

Peter huffed but reached out as well. The green saplings felt soft and were lightly covered in the sap that he had so greedily swallowed down the other day. He couldn’t help licking his lips at the memory, feeling himself getting hard. 

“Are you thinking what I am thinking?” Stiles asked, arousal clear in his voice.

“Probably not,” Peter replied and grinned, his teeth bared. Before Stiles could react, Peter grabbed him and pushed him through the opening between the branches. Immediately Stiles’ flailing limbs were caught by thick, green vines that appeared out of nowhere and he let out a surprised shout. They turned him around onto his back and stretched him out on the moss.

Still grinning, Peter followed behind, kneeling over Stiles and looking down at him. It should be dark in between the branches but the new growth was dimly glowing in a green light that made it easy to see Stiles’ excitement. 

“So, payback?” Stiles asked, giving Peter an exaggerated wink.

“Indeed,” Peter confirmed, reaching out to slice open Stiles’ shirt with a single claw before adding, “with interest.”

“What? What do you mean?” Stiles asked, looking uneasy now.

“Shh,” Peter hushed him and gently stroked his cheek. “Let us take care of you.”

Then Peter began to pepper Stiles’ exposed chest with light kisses, making him relax gradually. At the same time, the thin, sensitive tendrils appeared and also ran over Stiles’ skin, exploring. After a few moments they wrapped around Stiles’ nipples and tugged at them, making him moan.

Satisfied with the distraction, Peter quickly shed the rest of Stiles’ clothes, as well as his own. Then he spread Stiles’ thighs to kneel between them. Both of them were hard and it was a pleasure for Peter to just lean in and take Stiles’ cock deep into his mouth. 

In that moment Stiles bucked and shouted and Peter looked up smugly. But it wasn’t him that had caused the reaction. Instead Stiles was winding himself under the thin vines that were poking at his plumped up nipples, like they had done with Peter during the ritual. Apparently Stiles was much more sensitive and didn’t like it at all since Peter could smell his honest distress.

Quickly, Peter pulled off of Stiles’ cock and moved up, shoving them away with a few nudges of his hands. Seeing Stiles relax again, Peter lowered his head and gently licked over the swollen nipples and soothed the pain. Stiles whined and arched up, trying to rub himself against Peter. The vines seemed to sense his need and a few of them slid down his stomach and began to rub his cock. It caused Stiles to writhe harder. And then Peter sucked one nipple into his mouth and Stiles bucked even more wildly.

With his hands free, Peter spread Stiles’ thighs invitingly and the Nemeton was quick to oblige. The thick vines wrapped around Stiles’ knees and pulled them up a bit before one of them ran over Stiles’ hole, spreading the sap. 

Peter’s gaze was glued between Stiles’ legs and he reached out to use his thumb to rub the sap even deeper into the muscle. Stiles moaned deeply and pushed back into the touch, causing the vine to slip inside a bit. Encouraged, it slid deeper, stretching Stiles fast and making him shout out.

To distract him, Peter took him back into his mouth and sucked hard, his tongue swirling around Stiles’ flesh and the thin tendrils of the Nemeton. Between his fingers, Peter felt how another vine slipped into Stiles and soon he could smell how Stiles’ arousal skyrocketed, guessing the second one was pressing against his prostate. He increased his sucking motion and then suddenly Stiles was coming. Before Peter could even taste Stiles’ release, he was pulled back by the plant and the tendrils sucked it all up. 

Peter watched as Stiles smiled at him lazily, enjoying the continued milking of his cock. Unlike Peter, he graved the overstimulation and usually made Peter hold him down while he worked him over and over.

When Stiles was finally dry, the little tendrils on his cock retrieved, much to Peter’s surprise. But in the same moment, he saw another thick one slide up between Stiles’ legs. “Wait,” Peter called out and carefully grabbed the vine.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asked instantly and straightened up.

Peter gently pushing him back down and assured him soothingly, “Nothing’s wrong.” Then he added “Give me a few minutes,” hoping the Nemeton would understand him.

And maybe it did, but it seemed reluctant to cease all action since thin tendrils came out from everywhere, restlessly sliding over Stiles’ chest and stomach.

“What’s going on?” Stiles asked, but Peter leaned in to kiss him thoroughly, instead of answering. Stiles moaned against his lips and Peter took it as a good sign. He slipped his fingers between Stiles’ legs and gathered some of the sap that was running down Stiles’ thighs. Then he coated his fingers with it and pressed one fingertip against Stiles’ hole that was still stuffed with two vines. One of them thick like Peter’s cock and the other a little thinner, more agile. 

Stiles’ breath hitched as Peter slowly pushed his finger inside, feeling the rim stretch thin. His finger slid in easily along the sap-coated vines. When he was inside all the way, he began to fingerfuck Stiles a litlle, making him groan as both Peter’s finger and the vine grazed his prostate. 

The other vines gripped Stiles tighter and spread his legs even more. Peter used the change in position to pull out his finger and slip in two instead. Stiles hissed from the stretch, back arching. 

“Peter, what are you doing?” he asked, breathlessly. Peter just winked at him, but when Stiles saw him chase the tendrils around his cock away and putting extra sap on it, he knew. “Oh, my god! Are you crazy?” he asked with a faint voice.

“I know you can take it,” Peter stated confidently. “You showed me that big toy you use sometimes, remember?”

“That’s totally different. This- ahh.” Stiles cried out as Peter began to carefully spread his fingers inside him. Stiles’ hands twisted and he clutched at the moss underneath him, digging his fingers in hard. 

When he finally deemed Stiles loose enough, Peter pressed the head of his cock against Stiles hole and pushed. 

With a choked sound, Stiles tightened his grip on the moss. “Oh, god, oh, oh, oh,” he babbled, as Peter pushed further, stretching him deeper than his fingers had been able to. 

It was slow going, but eventually Peter was completely inside Stiles, balls slapping against the vine that was alongside him. Peter took a moment for both of them to catch their breaths, needing to get used to the sensation himself. Not only felt Stiles like a vice around him, Peter could also feel the slight pulsing of the plant against his cock. 

When Peter was sure he could go on without spilling immediately, he pulled back slowly, only to snap his hips and push back in deep.

“Oh, fuck, fucking fuck,” Stiles cried out, and Peter felt the vine push in deeper as well. He drew back out a little, to relieve the tension for Stiles, but the vine also pulled back. And then with every push and pull, it moved with Peter, fucking Stiles as one big entity.

“Relax and breathe into it,” Peter whispered and put one of Stiles’ leg over his shoulder, pressing in even deeper.

Stiles panted harshly but finally loosened up a little bit. He was glad Peter didn’t take his pain because he wanted to feel every second of it. And oh, boy, did he feel it. Something in his expression have must’ve given away his acceptance because Peter began to move faster. He was fucking Stiles with steady, powerful thrusts and the vine was stretching him to the limit. 

And then Peter felt the vine shift and from the way Stiles was bucking, mouth hanging open, he guessed it was grinding against Stiles’ sweet spot. He tightly held onto Stiles’ leg and hip and moved faster and faster until Stiles cried out and spilled over his own stomach. 

In seconds one thick vine slithered over Stiles’ skin and absorbed all the come, not at all disturbed by Peter’s continued fucking. Stiles was whining sweetly from the overstimulation. But he didn’t protest at all as Peter snapped his hips again and again, until he finally came deep inside Stiles, letting out a hoarse shout.

Dropping down onto his elbows, Peter tried to catch his breath. Then he slowly pulled out and watched as immediately a bunch of small tendrils rushed to take his place. 

“Oh, my god, what?” Stiles moaned, sounding completely out of it.

“I’m assuming they want to clean you out,” Peter replied, as dryly as he could in his exhausted state.

Stiles moaned again, obviously liking the idea because his cock gave a few tired twitches. He squirmed and wriggled as more and more tiny vines fought their way inside him, stretching him even further than Peter and the thick one.

The Nemeton seemed to take it as encouragement, squeezing a few more vines into Stiles, while another one attached itself to Stiles’ cock. It made Stiles thrash around, stimulation too much, even for him. 

Peter remembered the sensation, the vines trying to make him come again, cock soft and yet unable to fight the coming climax.

“Be good, Stiles,” Peter said firmly, and reached out to brush Stiles’ sweaty hair out of his face. He ran his fingertips over Stiles’ cheek to his open mouth and pushed two of his fingers inside. 

“Pwease,” Stiles whined desperately, eyes rolling into the back of his head. His tongue lolled in his mouth, stroking Peter’s fingers more by accident than anything else. 

Peter looked at him, mesmerized. Stiles’ legs were spread wide, the cluster of vines in his hole pushed and pushed, the vine on his cock pulling eagerly, and Peter’s hands on him, touching greedily.

Then suddenly Stiles’ body went taut before it convulsed, shaking violently in the Nemeton’s grip as he came again. It went on and on until the tree was satisfied, the vines pulling out and back, slowly. 

As Peter saw the Nemeton give up his lover, he reached out and gently spread Stiles out on the moss. “You did so well,” he whispered proudly and leaned over, kissing Stiles’ slack mouth.

At Peter’s words Stiles tried to smile and make grabby hands but he was too exhausted. Somehow Peter knew what he wanted. He laid down as well and scooped Stiles up into his arms. Then he inhaled the residual scent of Stiles’ arousal and proceeded to thoroughly scent mark him. 

Over them, the branches were still lightly glowing and Stiles blinked at them tiredly. “You know, this is actually romantic,” he whispered. Peter snorted and nuzzled Stiles’ temple. “You’ve obviously never been romanced properly,” he stated.

Stiles laughed, yawning. “Romance away, then. But first, sleep.”

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Please let me know if I made a typo or forgot a tag.
> 
> [My tumblr](http://lostwithoutmyanchor.tumblr.com/)


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